


Silhouette

by Moonzari



Category: Jane Eyre - All Media Types, Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
Genre: Blind Character, Canon Disabled Character, Don't Ask, F/M, I kinda relate to him a lot, I tried to do book, May/December Relationship, Mentions of Mental Illness, also I don't know what adaption I wrote this based off of, but yeah I'm ngl I like me some 2006 Jane Eyre so you can use that as a basepoint, mentions of bigamy, sorry I know I'm abusing the tags I'll stop now, very Rochester-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonzari/pseuds/Moonzari
Summary: We all know how Jane heard Rochester's voice on the moors and headed back to Thornfield.
This is Rochester's side of that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So Jane Eyre is my favorite novel of all time. I read it for the first time fifteen years ago when I was 13 years old. Over the years, I have watched the many adaptations and collected every copy of the book I've come across. I wrote some fanfiction for this fandom way back and it sucked. I don't even know if I still have it anywhere. Anyway I have an ear infection this week and I've been rekindling my love for Jane Eyre over the past couple of weeks so my brain made this since I haven't written anything in a few months. After smoking a lot of pot and analyzing the story a million different ways from Sunday, that is. So yeah, idea kinda stemmed from the Mariana's Trench song, " **One Love** ". Highly recommend you listen, fantastic song. Enjoy.

Her silhouette was a cold trick of the light.

Ever since his eyesight had been robbed from him in the blaze that burnt Thornfield Hall to the ground, Edward Rochester had taken to secluding himself from the rest of the world. He had once been a man of society, with a social circle to rival any other of the English elite. Word, however, travels rather quickly - and committing bigamy with your governess while your psychotic wife was locked away on the third floor of your manor was not something people looked favorably upon. Not that Edward thought anyone would understand.

Though... he thought Jane would.

The world he had built up around her in the months they had known each other had come crashing down around him so fast, he had barely time to comprehend it. And after the dust settled, Edward found he only wanted the company of a few of his most trusted servants and his dog.

He could hear Pilot panting lightly at his feet as he let interested, yet blank eyes that could only see dark shadows illuminated by candlelight roam over every familiar curve of her physique. Edward knew just how her spine curved; knew the swell of her small breasts well. He was broken in sight, but not memory. O, his poor, tortured soul! He could hardly bear it. "Jane..." he whimpered softly.

There was, of course, no reply.

The silhouette was still there a few moments later. Edward panicked, knowing that she was going to leave. That this was another fleeting dream. Sometimes she came to him like this: barely any clearer to him in his mind's eye than it would be in his physical sight. He supposed that saying about having your cake and eating it, too, finally became a bittersweet realization.

And it was then she disappeared, and he fell deeper into the pit of despair that had seemed to swallow him whole.

After the fire in the fireplace had long died down, indicating he should have been going to bed hours ago - he fumbled to stand, cane in hand. He heard Pilot whine as he did, and he grunted in reply as he slowly got his bearings; at least enough to find the bell.

Mary was used to her Master keeping late nights at times, so she would busy herself with leftover sewing or whatever needed doing while she waited. She didn't dare disturb him - the poor man could be violently angry if bothered at the wrong time.

When she finally heard the bell, Mary tucked the needle into the cloth to mark her place and headed to the drawing room to help Edward to his bedroom. That was all she did, however. He had his room set up in a manner that, with a few candles lit in distinct places, could make his own way around the room. "Good night, sir. Keep your window closed tonight, the wind is supposed to be a gale!" she warned, before closing his door for him.

It was the very brink of summer; a late May evening. When one loses their sight after having it for so long, time becomes a blur. Since therein lies no possible way of telling it anymore, never mind the crows of the cock at each passing dawn. But what did it matter? Edward was sure this was his descent into madness. That this had been his just reward. For deceiving an innocent girl - though his love for her still burned as fiercely and his fidelity lay only with her - and breaking his holy vows of matrimony to a woman he never loved - a mere human law. In the end, he couldn't even be set free into eternal damnation. He had to live the rest of his life like this: blind, crippled, and alone.

He had no one to blame but himself.

"Jane... Jane..." he sobbed, his grief overwhelming him in that moment. Jane was everything he'd wanted in life. Everything he'd wanted to be, everything he'd wanted to call his own. It took twenty years to find her, and only months to lose her. "Jane, where are you?"

She had been gone almost a year. A year of this, torture that was life without her. Now that he knew how it felt to awaken each morning to her smile and to her kiss, which he would never see or feel again, life felt completely void of any and all meaning. Edward sobbed quietly, before a harsh gale of wind rushed into the room.

" _Where are you? Wait for me_."

The words sounded like a muffled echo but it's that light, feminine tone. It was _her_. The cord of communion had not snapped after all! And if that was so, then his little bird would know where to find him.

However, it was more likely his grief manifesting itself into what he wanted to hear. _You ridiculous, old fool. She cannot hear you._

Curiouser, he found it, when Jane Eyre appeared before him three days later like she had burst out of one of his dreams.

This time, however, he can touch her, and she embraces him and kisses him with fondness - like they had never been apart. And even though his world is dark and he cannot see her, for a brief moment as they touch, Edward remembers there is something akin to light in his world.


End file.
